


Golden Boy Smile

by HerGambitandSwanSong



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Angst and Drama, Big Brother Dick Grayson, Case Fic, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Repressed Batfamily (DCU), Family Bonding, Family Issues, Family Secrets, Hurt Dick Grayson, Illness, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Medical Inaccuracies, Mental Health Issues, Other, References to Drugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2020-02-26 00:34:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18712879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HerGambitandSwanSong/pseuds/HerGambitandSwanSong
Summary: Jason's family was a collection of crazy, self-righteous, psychotic, stubborn as hell people. But he would always answer their calls.Story inspired by The-imaginative-fox tumblr post on the possible repercussions the first robin may have from being well the firsthttps://the-imaginative-fox.tumblr.com/post/184286735743/dottie-wan-kenobi-the-imaginative-fox-so





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheImaginativeFox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheImaginativeFox/gifts).
  * Inspired by [this post](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/489466) by the-imaginative-fox. 



> In which Nightwing and Red Hood bicker like an old married couple for 5 chapters 
> 
> Written for fun to kill time. No hate please.
> 
> Original post by the amazing The-Imaginative-Fox on Tumblr: https://the-imaginative-fox.tumblr.com/post/184286735743/dottie-wan-kenobi-the-imaginative-fox-so . Go check the post out and give Imaginative Fox all the love!

There was a certain unspoken code in the family. That if you needed help, they’d come. That being said, as the outsider of the family with questionable methods, Jason was rarely called upon, usually only by Drake.  
  
So, when Jason got the call from Dick, it was a pleasant surprise. The original robin- the boy wonder in need of assistance from the outsider no less. That would bring his ego down a notch.  
  
And as he lifted open Dick's apartment window from the escape, he couldn't help but smugly grin to himself. This would be fun.  
  
He made sure to be as loud as possible when coming in to avoid having sharp objects and wingdings as his brother so aptly named them thrown at him. As much as he wanted to act all brooding and tough being impaled by one of those hurt. Especially if the thrower knows where to aim.  
  
"Hey Dick?" He called out, dropping his rug sack on the wood floor with a thump. The living room was empty and rather clean aside from an empty dish on the coffee table and a cereal box at the foot of it. "You home?"  
  
"Hey!" His brother's voice said with what Jason could only make out as a mild surprise. "I didn’t expect you to get here so early, I'll be out in a minute. I'm just patching up."  
  
The sound was coming through the bathroom walls, so Jason took a seat on the loveseat close by and looked around. By his side on the same table as the bowl was a handful of small pictures. There was one of Alfred and his brother who looked to be graduating from school. Another of Damian scowling at the camera, Tim passed out on the couch, Cass dancing and to Jason's surprise, a picture of a much younger version of himself with Bruce.  
  
If he remembered correctly, that was probably the last picture he had taken with Bruce before shit hit the fan and their relationship went nuclear. Back then there wasn't much resentment, just different opinions and short arguments that always left Jason angrier.  
  
He could never understand how his siblings, Dick most of all- could just go with what the Big Bat said and did. Maybe he envied their perfect ingroup relationship with their father or he just despised their complete lack of outside thinking.  
  
Jason didn’t have much time to ruminate any longer as the bathroom started to open and he put the picture back, twisting to see the door and his brother.  
  
Stripped of his Nightwing persona from the waist up, leaving the skin tight black and blue suit on his hips down, his older brother walked out carrying a damp towelette.  
  
There were a few scraps here and there on his brother's upper torso but the most notable was the purple puffy bruises on both sides of his cheeks.  
  
Jason's brows rose and he leaned over the head rest of the loveseat. "Damn, what happened to you face?" He asked. "Radioactive mosquitoes? Or wait lemme guess, allergies."  
  
His brother just stared blankly, completely looking past the joke. "Some guy managed to land a hit on me." He put his towel to his face, gently pressing on the puffy areas.  
  
Over his brother's shoulder, Jason spared a glance into the bathroom to see if there was any blood. Maybe it was some morbid fascination or some hidden innate need to see how hurt his brother was, but as he glanced at the bathroom, he couldn't see anything, just a small thin glass cylinder and toothbrush.  
  
The bathroom shut before Jason got a longer look, and his brother kept his damp towel against his face. "The tub is covered in my blood, so I suggest you use the powder room."  
  
"Got it," Jason nodded, gaze following Dick as his brother closed and locked the apartment window. "So, what did you call me for?"  
  
"Did you leave your bullets?" Dick ignored the question, eyeing the guns at Jason's sides.

  
"Yeah, they've got rubber bullets in them, you asked me to leave the real ones behind."  


Dick's shoulders fell partially in relief and he nodded. "Good," he mumbled.  
  
"Look if you don't trust me to follow basic instructions, then why didn't you call Thing 1 or Thing 2. I'm sure they'd be thrilled to work with the Golden Boy."  
  
There was a moment of nothing before Dick seemed to register what Jason had said, and he ran his fingers through his hair, shaking his head with instance regret. "Shit, that's not what I meant Jay. I'm sorry, it's just... I don’t want their help. Not with this- they're just kids."  
  
The tone he was using was low and sincere. He probably felt that whatever case this was, he didn't want a bunch of kids to have to carry that burden and stress. No matter how skilled or talented they were. There was still a chance of them getting hurt.  
  
"Okay..." Jason said quietly as Dick grabbed a folder by the kitchen table and brought it to the living room. "So, what's going on?"  
  
The folder was dropped open in front of Jason, the memorable insignia of Arkham Asylum printed on the top right of the paper. Opposite to it was a black and white picture of a familiar shaven head inmate.    
  
"Victor Zsasz?" Jason echoed in surprise and revulsion. "What about that asshole?"  
  
His brother took a seat, grabbing another paper, this time with a printed snapshot of a security recording. The picture was grainy and a little blurry in spots, but it showed the ugly mug of Victor’s face as he left through the back-maintenance doors of Arkham. "Zsasz escaped last week. From what they gathered, he saw a guard who was down on his luck, got inspired and planned an escape. The guard was found hung in his home a few days later. Autopsy found that the cause of death wasn't self inflicted as it was staged to be."  
  
"Why isn't the Big Olde Bat handling it then?"  
  
"Zsasz was spotted in Bludhaven and Batman is on a manhunt for Penguin."  
  
"Why is he here?"  
  
"No clue," Dick answered.  
  
Leaning back against the loveseat Jason sighed. "Look Dick, it's awesome that you called, and you want my help, but you do realize we're talking about a serial killer. You know how I feel about people like that, what I'll do to them. Why call me then?"  
  
Dick nodded, taking the towelette away from his face. The puffy purple on his cheeks hadn't seem to go down, if anything they were more swollen and nastier looking then before.  
  
"I don't want to bring anyone else into this Jay, not Damian, not Tim, not Babs- no one. I can't let them worry, and you're the only one I know who can keep quiet and handle this with somewhat of a level head."  
  
"Right, cause I'm the emo reject."  
  
"No," Dick stressed with emphasis. "Because you understand better then anyone what emotions can make a person do. So, you need to promise me now, that when the time comes you won't kill him."  
  
He extended his free hand and Jason stared at it thoughtfully.  
  
It still didn’t make sense, there were other people Dick knew that were far more team oriented and not screwed in the head like Jason was that Dick could have asked for help. He could have asked Wally, Donna, Cassandra, Starfire- hell anybody and they would have come.  
  
There was something Dick wasn’t telling him. Something he wanted to keep under wraps and figured that Jason would either not notice or just be the boy who cried wolf.  


If that's how his brother was going to play, then Jason would join the game.  
  
He took his brother's free hand and shook on the promise. "Alright no killing. I'll follow your lead.” He said confidently, “Now tell me what you've got on him."  


~~

By the time the debriefing had ended, the sun had set, and the moon was high in the sky glowing brightly through Dick’s apartment windows.

“You going on patrol tonight?” Jason asked absentmindedly as he scrolled through the Arkham file. Dick had stripped himself of his uniform and had settled in track pants and a shirt during the discussion of Zsasz.

He looked up from his copy of the file at Jason before glancing out the window. “I think I’m going to stay in. Last night wrecked me and I need to get some sleep so I’m alright tomorrow.”

Jason frowned, lowering his file. “What do you mean alright?”

“Well Jaybird,” Dick started, a teasing smile making its way onto his brother’s face. His eyes remained glued to the files, yet his smile rose in teasing anticipation. “When a person doesn’t get enough sleep, they get moody and tired, and when they are tired, they become mean.”

 “Hilarious,” Jason deadpanned. “If that’s the case, then the Demon Spawn needs to sleep for weeks.” 

“Look who’s talking. You’re a couple years behind on your sleep too buddy.”

Jason groaned, throwing back his head, “You sound like Alfred, but much more annoying and less British.”

“Just looking out for my baby brother’s well-being.” Dick hummed playfully. “You guys don’t want to turn out like me.”

Jason closed the file and set it aside permanently for the night, standing to stretch his legs, “I highly doubt that since Damian practically lives for your approval and Timmy is so close to having your photos plastered on his bedroom walls like a teenage girl.” He wiggled his legs before stretching his arms above his head and letting out a relaxing groan as his bones popped. “Trust me… every Robin at some point has wanted what you got.”

“And what was that?”

Jason thought for a moment, rolling his shoulders, “Original status, a fresh and less moody Batman, stupidly named villains… the list can go on.”

“That stuff comes with collateral damage, Jason.”

“Yeah, but the Batman I grew up on was strict, obsessive, and controlling. Out on patrol with him, I could never do anything that he didn’t teach me or wasn’t in protocol.”

“He’s like that for a reason.” Dick explained shortly.

“Of course, you’d say that, you were the golden boy who smiled in the face of danger, you could do anything you wanted.”

“Because we were inexperienced. We didn’t know what we were doing back then and because of that there were consequences. But we learned and we adapted so none had to experience those consequences… so you didn’t have too.”

“Well I guess I should thank you then,” Jason snapped, tone dripping in sarcasm as he threw up his arms. “You saved my teenage years from a disaster worse then getting blown up!”

 As soon as the last words left his lips, a raging wave of regret poured over him. Pain and guilt were evident in his brother’s eyes, and instantly Jason hated himself for bringing his death up. He knew how much it effected Dick, and how much it struck a guilty chord with his brother. The stupid idiot thought that had he been more present back then, the entire ordeal would have been avoided and they would have all lived happily ever after.

“I’m going to bed,” Dick explained solemnly, getting up from the couch. He didn’t bother to wait for a response, instead heading towards his bedroom. “You can sleep in the guest room. If you need more blankets they’re folded in the closest.”  

Jason watched wordlessly as his brother left, mind blank of any possible apology. Instead he clenched his fists, huffed and swore angrily under his breath. This was a great way to start a case; with an argument and words he’d later regret. His brother was just so stubborn at times, especially when it came to anything involving the Batman and their nightly activities.  
  
There wasn’t much he could do now aside from sleep and hope that in the morning they’d forget and move on. He just hoped that it didn’t make the case harder then it already was. There wasn’t a lot of leads on where Zsasz would be, and he highly doubted they would get anywhere if his partner was angry with him.  
  
He waited until the light in Dick's room had turned off and there was no rustling coming from the room before packing up the files. He was about to head towards the guest bedroom when he caught sight on the bathroom door again.  
  
Something about it made him curious. His gut was telling him to snoop around and see what his brother was hiding, but some other part of him was telling him to respect his brother's privacy, especially after what had just occurred. As much as he enjoyed riling his siblings up and knocking them down a peg or two, he didn’t want to destroy any relationships with his family. There were a select few individuals he tolerated with similar life experiences, and half of them came resided in the Batcave. He could be an asshole at times, but he was not a complete asshat.  
  
However, unzipping his rug sack he did realize one thing.  
  
He forgot to bring a toothbrush.  
  
Dick would probably have a spare one.  
  
Opening the bathroom door quietly, he peeked his head through glancing around the small area for a light switch.  
  
The first thing he noticed after turning on the lights, was that Dick had lied. Jason had been expecting the tub to be filled with the diluted blood of his brother as he had previously mentioned. Instead it was quite the opposite. The tub was spotless, scrubbed meticulously clean aside from the small chips of ceramic missing in various corners of the tub. The bathroom itself smelt like the inside of a bleach bottle and had there not been a fan running, Jason was positive his eyes would burn from the smell.  
  
Dick would only lie if he didn’t want Jason to go into the bathroom, and if he didn’t want Jason in there, then there must be something he didn’t want anyone to see.

Opening up the drawers under the sink Jason scanned the various items in the drawers. Nothing seemed suspicious just the classic razor or two, rubbing alcohol, cotton swabs and an unholy number of bandages.  
  
He moved onto the medicine cabinet above the sink, catching notice of an unused still-packaged set of needles. Beside them was a half empty bottle labelled Lidocaine that was obviously professional grade. He could recall Bruce mentioning Lidocaine once as a numbing medication but aside from tablets that they took when their whole body was in pain, they never used injections. That was more of an area specific use.  
  
There were also bottles of antidepressants and Benzodiazepines close by the bottle, all labeled for a Richard Grayson, prescribed by Leslie Thompson. Why their family physician would directly prescribe his brother all these drugs when they had everything in bulk safety stored in the Batcave for emergencies rattled his brain.  
  
"Grayson, what are you doing to yourself?" He couldn't help but whisper in confusion.  
Jason wasn’t an expert in the medical area whatsoever, but it was clear to see that his brother was in some sort of situation; whether that be discomfort, pain or straight up neurotic.  
  
Then again, Leslie always had their wellbeing at heart and Jason highly doubted that the strong-willed -sometimes terrifying- lady would be easily pressured or persuaded into prescribing his brother drugs he did not need.  
  
Pushing the issue to the back of his head, Jason shrugged off any unwelcomed thoughts and carefully closed all the drawers, making sure the bathroom looked untouched. He shut the door, grabbed his rucksack, and went into the guest room, tossing it beside the foot of the bed before collapsing on the thick duvet with a sigh.  
  
What the hell was he getting into.  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Returned from volunteering in Costa Rica. Highly recommended volunteering abroad at least once in your lifetime. 
> 
> Enjoy this chapter, it was way longer then I expected.
> 
> Original post by the amazing The-Imaginative-Fox on Tumblr: https://the-imaginative-fox.tumblr.com/post/184286735743/dottie-wan-kenobi-the-imaginative-fox-so . Go check the post out and give Imaginative Fox all the love!

  
Jason is up the next day before the birds even start chirping. Through trial and error, he managed to make a semi decent coffee with his brother's coffeemaker that had been gathering dust for God knows how long and was in the process of thinking up possible ideas to where Zsasz might be.

The best explanation with the information he'd been given was that Zsasz was in Bludhaven to go after someone he saw as hopeless, and was probably either lurking around homeless shelters, bars or hospitals for little side missions to kill time until he worked on his main objective.  
  
However, in a populated city like Bludhaven, it was going to be difficult to spot the guy. Luckily the BPD had already been notified of the serial killer's walk into Bludhaven and was on the lookout for him. If they spotted him and radioed it in, then Jason and Dick could hopefully track him down and get to him before the cops.  
  
But all of that didn’t matter if he and Dick were still strung up from the conversation gone sour last night. And while Dick was known to be apologetic -borderline suck up for the sake of the mission when he needed to be- Jason was not. He didn’t really know how to go about apologizing without making some backhanded comment that spiraled the apology into another argument.  
  
Nonetheless, he'd try- and what better way then with breakfast.  
  
Swinging open the fridge door, Jason already had the savory thoughts of breakfast ideas in mind. Out of all the siblings, he could confidently say his cooking skill _almost_ rivaled Alfred’s. He peered down, resting his arm on the top of the fridge door for support. But the sad contents of an almost empty fridge stared pitifully back at him.  
  
He slumped in defeat groaning audibly, "What the hell."  
  
Before he could attempt anything, the loud buzz of the doorbell rang throughout the kitchen, snapping Jason out of his disappointed state.  
  
He shut the fridge door, strode towards the door and looked through the spy hole half expecting some stranger or neighbor of his brother, but instead he was left surprised.  
  
Opening the door quickly, Jason didn’t bother to mask his surprise as he said, "Alfred?"  
  
The family butler apparently hadn't bothered to hide his surprise either as he said Jason's name with raised brows. "Master Jason, I must say, I was not expecting you here."  
  
"Y'know, I was thinking the same thing about you," Jason chirped. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Delivering a package for Master Richard, and yourself?" It was only then that Jason noticed the box in Alfred's hands.  
  
Jason jabbed a thumb behind him in the direction of his brother’s room. "We're working a case together. He asked for some help."  
  
Alfred hummed, handing over the package to Jason. "Quite the odd duo. I do hope it all goes well."  
  
"Thanks," Jason nodded, eyes falling on the box. It was light and not at all heavy given the size. "So... what's in the box?"  
  
"Unfortunately that is not my place to tell. You'll have to ask your brother; however, you know how stubborn he is at times."  
  
That was the understatement of the year, considering the argument they got into the night before.

Maybe Alfred could help him though.    
  
"How do you do it? How do you keep all those secrets locked away?"  
  
A brow rose on the butler's face before going back to his neutral expression. "With compassion and patience, Master Jason. Are you looking to improve your restraint with secrets?”  
  
"Sounds difficult and no, I’m actually trying to figure out how to squeeze the secret out of someone." Jason made sure to place emphasis on _squeeze_ , making certain to visibly grip the package tighter to make a point.  
  
"I’m afraid then what you are looking for is called interrogation," Alfred simply answered, taking a step back into the hallway. "I have errands to run so I must cut this chat short. However, I do expect you at the manor for dinner sometime this month."  
  
"I'll make sure to put it in my calendar." Jason grinned.    
  
"Have a good day Master Jason."  
  
"You too Alfred."  
  
Bumping the door with his elbow, Jason shut the door wandering back into the kitchen area. He glanced at the cardboard package in his hands, shaking the package lightly. It wasn’t his intention to break whatever was inside of it, but he was curious to know what it was. Carefully he rustled the package, jostling it enough to hear faint clicks that reminded him of when he would shake a box of M&Ms during Halloween. To some it sounded like M&M’s, but for others it just sounded like another bottle of pills.  

Great now Alfred was hand delivering prescriptions to his brother. Either the Golden Boy was getting the golden treatment, or his little secret wasn’t so exclusive as he thought.   

Frustrated, Jason tossed the package on the kitchen counter, grabbing his coffee and unceremoniously slumping onto the couch.

By the time Dick came around shuffling into the living area, Jason was done his coffee and staring off into space. As the floor creaked from under Dick’s feet, he snapped out of his daze, getting up to face his brother.

Jason started fumbling, “Hey good morning, I.. uh just wanted to say-“  
  
He was cut off just as quickly as he began, Dick’s raised hand stopping him from continuing, “-Don't worry Jay, just forget it.” His brother began, blinking tiredly. “I was tired and I shouldn't have let the discussion go that far. That’s on me, and I’m sorry.”

“So… we’re all good?” Jason eyed carefully, unsure of the limitations to how ‘good’ they were.

Dick nodded, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with a small smile. The corners of his lips were still bruised, but they were less swollen and purple then last night. “Yeah, we’re good.”

There was a silence between the two, only adding more awkwardness between the two equally emotionally stunted men.

“Alfred dropped a package off by the way.” Jason motioned towards the table where the package laid with the jerk of his head. At the mention of the box, his brother’s eyes widened, and his shoulders slumped in what looked somewhat like relief.

Dick went for the package and Jason stepped out of his way, rocking on his heels lazily.

“What’s in it?” Jason asked, pretending to appear only mildly interested in it. He didn’t want to come off as too forward because then Dick could start to get paranoid.

“Nothing important,” His brother mumbled, opening the box at an angle Jason couldn’t see. Satisfied with whatever he had been looking at, Dick shut the box, pressing it against his side and turned back to his brother.

“It’s rare that I ever get to see you outside of our nightly activities, so do you want to go out for breakfast? I’ll pay my treat.”

“You had me at ‘I’ll pay’,”

“Cool, just give me like ten minutes to get ready.”

“Of course, pretty boy has to style his hair.’

~~

To Jason’s surprise it didn’t take long for his brother to change and get ready. The trip to breakfast was peaceful and uneventful, having a decent catchup on life that didn’t involve assassins or alien invasions.  
  
Aside from the worry prodding at the back of his head, Jason found that he enjoyed talking to his brother. In all of Dick's stubborn, sometimes annoyingly self-righteous personality, he was actual a pretty entertaining and reasonable guy when he wanted to be. He was knowledgeable in most subjects and held a certainty that resonated with whoever he talked too. Jason could easily see the appeal his brother had, and he remembered feeling enthralled by that when he was younger.

Back then, when Batman was just a story nobody knew was true or not, and the Gotham police couldn’t decide if a masked vigilante would finally save the city or burn it down, every kid had their eyes glued to their windows. They wanted to see -even if for a second- the original duo, jumping from building to building, falling like they were flying, doing things kids could only dream of. And while the dark and terrifying figure of Batman was all the adults and media could care about, it was the kids who saw the brightly colored boy at the Dark Knight’s right hand. They saw a Robin, and nothing else.  

It didn’t matter if the kid was rich or poor, girl or boy, whatever ethnicity, when they looked out their windows and managed to get a glimpse of bright colors against the darkness of Gotham something inside them grew.

Because Robin represented exactly what any kid wanted to be: free, happy, and smiling without fear.

It was something Jason knew from first hand experience, and when he finally met the original Robin still felt. Dick Grayson, no matter the costume or mask he wore was always a constant. He still carried around that free, happy nature where nothing scared him no matter the situation. But as they walked to the diner and Jason watched Dick talked, a realization that -yes- Dick Grayson’s personality naturally was optimistic, but the intensity behind it could be just another mask he wore.

And there was something terrifying about that.    
  
Finally, they stopped in front of the diner, and Jason pried his attention away from the conversation. The diner was small and quaint, a retro theme of neon lights prominent in the design and along the frames of the door and windows. The booths inside were old and worn, making the colorful cushions just comfortable enough to sit on. As they took a seat in one of the booths Jason figured his brother came fairly regularly to the diner because of how easily Dick settled.

 His prediction was only furthered when a small older lady no taller then his shoulders stopped at the end of the table, notepad in hand. Her hair was salt and peppered, pressed into a small bun. She reminded Jason of a granny that made cookies.  
  
"Ah good morning Richard," She smiled sweetly at his brother. "You look tired today."  
  
"Yeah just a little bit," He bobbed his head with a soft smile. "How about you, is your back still giving you problems?"  
  
"Oh, same as usual. Not much I can do now though; the early days are just catching up with me."  
  
Dick pulled a face of confusion. "Early days? Don't you mean last week, you don't look a day over twenty!"  
  
The older lady tutted, pressing her thin free hand to her heart and smiled with prominent crows feet. Jason found himself succumbing to the innocent conversation, the tips of his closed lips turning upward. "You sure do know how to warm an old lady's heart."  
  
"Only for the best, Roma." Dick said. No matter how suave Jason thought he was at sweet talking, he now knew that nobody was as good as Dick Grayson. The man knew how to enthrall even the hearts of tiny elderly ladies. He was a master of his own craft.  
  
Roma took the notepad, flipping open to a clean page and took out a pen from her apron. "I'm guessing you'll be having your usual. Did you want me to bring out some coffee too?"  
  
"Not for me, just water thanks. But my brother would love some." Dick told her.  
  
Roma shook her head as if to scold herself for forgetting. "Oh yes, I forgot you shouldn't mix." Jason frowned at the mention of mixing, meeting eyes with his brother.  
  
As they made eye contact, Dick's eyes flashed away quickly, avoidance evident on his expression.  
  
Roma looked to Jason completely unaware. "And what would you like darling?"  
  
"Uh whatever he's having."  
  
She tapped the pen to the little hoops of the notepad, shooting them both another smile. "Alrightly, I'll go grab the drinks. Be right back."  
  
His brother watched as the lady left, but Jason kept his eyes locked on Dick. If he could burn holes through his brother's head by just staring he would.  
  
Dick turned to his brother, motioning with his thumb at Roma, "Local diner owned by her and her husband. Found this place after a long case I was working. Turns out they have great pig n' poke, but don't tell Damian that."  
  
"Mhm," Jason hummed, not caring a bit. He was cutting to the chase whether Dick liked it or not. "So, what are you mixing?"  
  
"Sorry, what?"  
  
"What's not good to mix with coffee, because there's a lot of things so you'll have to narrow it down for me."  
  
"Just pain meds." Dick folded his arms tightly across his chest, leaning back against the cushioned backrest.  
  
"Doesn't seem like that's all."  
  
Dick narrowed his eyes, shifting a little, "And what's that suppose to mean?"  
  
"I think you know exactly what it means."  
  
Just then, two young girls sitting close by began to chat loudly in French, their volume only octaves short of inappropriate for a breakfast setting. The boys were momentarily distracted, attention shooting right back.

Dick looked back, "Jay, we aren't doing this right now. We have a case to discuss."  
  
"Just answer the question, plain and simple. Then we can talk about the case all you want." Jason stated; eyes locked on his brother's.  
  
There was a pause as Roma came back, ignorant to the growing tension between the brothers. She dropped off the water and poured a cup of coffee for Jason.  
  
Breaking eye contact, Dick thanked her with a forced expression, turning serious once more as she left the table.  
  
"Can we talk about this later." He said lowly, his tone far from portraying a question. This was good, Dick was reacting- using his ‘Batman’ voice. It meant Jason was getting somewhere, pressing the right buttons to set his brother off.  
  
"Uh no, I know you Dick, you'll pretend the 'later' never happened and you’ll lock the topic down.”  
  
Dick reeled back a little, quite obviously offended but Jason couldn't care less. He wasn’t going to beat around the bush. "I don't do that. If anything, it's you who does it."  
  
"Stop it. You're trying to change the subject."  
  
"Jay-" His brother sputtered, hands splayed out on the table. The French ladies erupted into laughter beside them and Dick's eyes skirted to watch them in alarm. He rubbed the back of his neck with the quick but heavy drag of his hand, before dropping it to fidget with his other hand.  
  
Jason watched, knowing fully well that his brother was getting anxious. If he was anxious then he'd crack.  
  
If there was one thing the Golden Boy was not so golden at, it was lying to people he knew. When it came to strangers or 'work' related coworkers the guy could lie, mask his emotions, and make up cover stories with ease. But when it came to lying to family or people he had formed relationships with, he could barely function. Dick was a genuine honest family man and ultimately that would be his greatest weakness. He couldn’t hurt those that he loved, even with a lie.  
  
It was why he avoided people when he had a problem or always tried to handle it himself like a self-sacrificing idiot. Better to fix the problem then to face those he loved and have them worry.  
  
If Jason could use that, then Dick would crack like an egg.  
  
"You know what I think," Jason said slowly, eyes narrowing to burn holes into his brother. "I think you asked me on this case because you thought I wouldn't care. That I'd be oblivious to what's going on with you and just be driven to catch Zsasz because he's a serial killer."  
  
"Jason-"  
  
"-and I think you didn’t want to call Tim, Damian, Cass or anyone for that matter because they're nosy and that threatens the secrets your trying to keep under lock and key.”  
  
" _Jay_ -" Dick tried to interrupt, but Jason was on a roll and he wasn’t ready to stop.  
  
"-And if they knew, they'd be worried- or better yet, your super star status as almighty big brother would be compromised, and that would just put a dent in that perfect gold mask of yours.”

The corner of Dick’s lips twitched upwards, and he ducked his head to avoid eye contact.

“No, I don’t, not all of it anyways. From what I can gather, only Dr Thompson and Alfred know. But if Alfred knows then Bruce must know. So why is it that only the old kooks know?”

“Because it’s private.” Dick muttered, head still hanging. His brother’s shoulders shook up and down ever so slightly, but Jason paid no notice, he was too caught up in his frankly amazing subtle interrogation.

“Not anymore.” Jason stated, folding his arms tightly across his chest. “So, did I miss anything?”

The chatter in the diner rose and the ladies beside them continued to talk lively with wild hand expressions. Somewhere in the kitchen of the diner a heavy pot fell, crashing to the tile floor, followed by a half of dozen ‘ _Oppas_!’ from close by customers.  

There was a lot going on, but that didn’t bother Jason.

Dick Grayson? Not so much.  
  
It was only when his brother ran his fingers through his hair, did Jason notice how much his brother’s hands were shaking. They shook from the bone, barely able to stay still, and his shoulders rose and fell in unison with the heavy breathing of his brother.

Slowly, Jason unraveled his arms previously crossed between his chest, and he placed them on the tabletop, leaning in with concern.

“Dick?” He asked, his voice suddenly small. “You okay?”

"Wanna here a joke?" His brother finally looked up at him. The corner of his lips were still twitching, and dread pooled in Jason’s stomach.

Jason’s brows rose and he pushed back in confusion. "No, not really the time, Dick," Jason said. "I just wanna know what's going on with you, man."  
  
"Jay," Dick said, lips stretching out into a nervous grin. "What did one French girl say to another?"  
  
Jason blinked owlishly. Was his brother going insane? "Uh.... what did she say?"  
  
"I don't know, I don't speak French!" He exclaimed in a loud laugh that faded quickly into a continuous strain of quieter but still disruptive laughter.  
  
Jason started dumbfounded at his brother, mouth hanging partly. He could feel himself slowly lean over the table as if to inspect his brother, gripping the sides of the tabletop. He had no clue what he should be looking for, red eyes? Bad breath? Bruised arms? Sweat? No one truly looks insane, so how would he know if his brother was.  
  
"Dick... are you alright?"  
  
His brother just kept laughing to himself, smile wide with little to no care about answering Jason's question. It was uneasy and off to say the least, and he could feel it bringing back unwanted memories. He glanced around the diner to try and push away those thoughts, noticing the turning stares and low mutters from the customers.  
  
"Dick!" Jason said more urgently, snapping his fingers in front of his older brother's face. As if on cue, Dick instantly buried his face in between the crook of his arm, hunching over with a startled wide look in his blue eyes. There was something terrified in those eyes, and Jason didn’t like that at all.  
  
The laughing was finally muffled, and Dick shifted his way out of the booth seat, head still buried in his arm as he hurried to the washroom.  
  
Which left Jason -confused and utterly dumbfounded- watching with a shocked expression as his brother left. He groped to say anything, but he couldn’t think of a single thing.

What the hell was there to say?  
  
Instead he pushed his way out of the booth seat, jogging after his brother. Jason pulled open the washroom doors, coming to a slow stop as he entered.  
  
He could hear his brother -having locked himself in one of the stalls already- laughing quietly to himself in what Jason could only label as uncontrollable.  
  
The quiet laughter morphed back and forth from chuckles to his brother's repeated whispers of, _'not now, calm down, not now._ '  
  
Jason knelt down checking to see if there were any other people in the stalls other then his brother. He could only see one pair of familiar blue shoes that his brother was wearing, which made it just them in the men's washroom.  
  
"Dick, what's going on?" He said, leaning against the tile wall parallel to his brother. "Talk to me."  
  
"No..." Was the answer in-between laughs, and Jason's face scrunched in disapproval.  
  
"No? What the hell do you mean no?" He sputtered in disbelief, folding his arms against his chest.  
  
"Because... not your job."  
  
"Why? Because I'm the younger brother?" He frowned. "Dick that's bullshit. You sound like you got a dose of Joker's Venom in you."  
  
"-Not helping. Go... back," Dick breathed heavily, obviously straining himself not to laugh.  
  
"Fine. But when you get back to the table, we are talking about this. I don't give a shit about your stupid sibling code, you aren't alright and if you want me to help you with this case your going to fess up."  
  
Dick didn’t respond, just continued to chuckle in that eerie way. Jason hated to admit it, but if he listened to it longer, it would run chills down his spine.

He followed his brother’s request, but before leaving the washroom, threw out a: “If you try to escape through the window, I’m going to taser you,” for reassurance.

Shutting the door, Jason was met with the tiny presence of the waitress, Roma in front of him. The top of her head barely came up his shoulders, but she stared him down with an intensity that would rival the Demon Spawn’s. Suddenly Jason got the feeling that if she didn’t like you, she could make your life a living hell.

“He’s having a bad day.” Jason gestured to the washroom lamely. That was the understatement of the year. “My brother didn’t mean to go off like that.”

Her stern expression morphed into one of loving concern, no longer looking like she could skin a man alive. "Poor boy, this always happens when he runs out." Jason let out a breath of relief. So, she was only worried about Dick, that was somewhat of an odd relief.

But if she was worried about him, then that meant this wasn’t a onetime case. Maybe she knew more than Jason, and maybe she could possibly enlighten him a little bit more.

Jason put on his best innocent expression, channeling his inner brotherly status. “I’ve been busy with work overseas, so I haven’t seen my brother in a while. I didn’t know he was this bad - if I had known earlier, I would have come sooner and well…” He paused for a dramatic moment. “I’m worried about him, but we don’t talk like we did before. Where should I start, and what causes this?”   

Roma cooed with care, and she took Jason’s hand. “Don’t be hard on yourself, your brother isn’t always like this. He only has trouble when he starts a new prescription or is off it too long. Just be kind to him and he’ll open up.”

“Has he told you much about his problem?”

Roma shook her head, “No, I’m afraid not, I’m not family so I don’t know much of his case. We just chat briefly about issues and share remedies, but I never pry.”

Jason wanted to bark that she apparently knew far more then he did, and she wasn’t family, but that would only frighten the lady and shut out any possible information he could get.

“Just be patient with him, and he’ll let you help him.” Roma said softly, letting go of his hand.

Jason wasn’t too sure about that.  


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was going to have much more in it but it ended up being/taking way longer then I thought so I'm going to split it up into two chapters. 
> 
> Original post by the amazing The-Imaginative-Fox on Tumblr: https://the-imaginative-fox.tumblr.com/post/184286735743/dottie-wan-kenobi-the-imaginative-fox-so . Go check the post out and give Imaginative Fox all the love!

Jason watched as his brother approached the table, his brother’s blue eyes downcast and walk uncertain. It was a polar opposite sight from the years of knowing Dick. This wasn’t the version of his brother he grew up with. This wasn’t the stubborn, joke cracking, confident and eccentric guy he knew. This hollow of a man seemed embarrassed and hesitant, terrified and solemn.

Was this really the guy under the mask?  

His brother slipped back into the booth seat, eyes falling on the food in front of him. Roma had brought their breakfast out shortly before, promising to make another plate if the food got cold by the time Dick returned.

“What do you wanna know.” His brother said quietly, eyes refusing to meet Jason’s.

“I just want to understand.” Jason explained sincerely. “Walk me through all of this, Dick.”

“It’s the collateral damage.”

Jason frowned, not following, “Sorry?”

“What I was talking about last night,” Dick mumbled, “The collateral from being the first.”

The pieces slowly clicked in Jason’s head, and he nodded ever so slightly. That was why Dick had told him last night, that he was trying to make sure his brothers didn’t end up like him. It wasn’t because of ego or humor; it was his brother hoping to prevent his siblings from experiencing the same issues he was plagued with.

“It’s like what happens with kids that get addicted to drugs at an early age. Those drugs and alcohol whether they wanted it or not effect how their brains develop. It becomes harder for them to focus or learn, to control their behaviour and mood… to just not feel so horrible.”

The memories of his mother passed out on their tiny dirty apartment floor flooded his mind. He understood what Dick was saying, he witnessed it firsthand with his mother. The inability to fully be in control of how she felt. There were days where she would be livid, but seconds later be a sobbing mess; it wasn’t who she was, it was just the drugs and alcohol that made her act that way- pushed her and tormented her like she was just some puppet with strings attached. He didn’t need to imagine how severe drugs could affect a child’s development when he saw how they easily they destroyed an adult’s.

“Yeah, I know.” Jason whispered, his eyes falling on his own plate. The sunny-side up egg had yolk leaking from the center. “My mum was like that.”

Dick looked up slowly and Jason followed suit. Maybe Dick had forgotten about Jason’s family past, maybe he did remember, and his unconscious wanted it to be Jason all along that found out. Nonetheless, something told Jason that they were on the same level now.

“So, what was it?” He asked.

“Mainly Scarecrow’s Fear Toxin and Joker’s Venom.” Dick explained, taking his fork and knife. “Nobody had ever seen those before, and it was only years after they were introduced that B had managed to find antidotes to use against them. If we got doses of them, we’d just have to ride it out. By the time you came around B had antidotes for everything.”

Jason leaned back, nodding. By the time he became Robin and Dick was off somersaulting through the night in bright blue and god-awful gold there were already cures and weaknesses for everything they faced. The Batman and Robin before were just the crash course dummies that saw what worked and what didn’t. “Why wasn’t Bruce effected as bad as you? He had gotten years of it as well, right.”

Dick shrugged, running his knife through an egg on his plate. “I don’t know, maybe he did but because he wasn’t a kid, he could shrug it off.”

“Or maybe he buried it so deep that he killed it from pure stubbornness and spite,” Jason managed to snort, and a tiny smile appeared on Dick’s lips.

“Yeah, probably. He’s _y’know_ after all.”

Taking his own cutlery, he started to tear apart the sausage. “Can I ask what caused the fit a couple minutes ago?”

At the mention of the little incident Dick’s cheeks grew rosy and he looked sheepishly away for a moment. Dick turned back, “A couple days ago I ran out of my prescription, so I’ve just been having…”

“-Withdrawals?” Jason cut off and he briefly registered hurt in his brother’s eyes. To say withdrawal meant that he was dependent on the pills, and if Dick was anything it was the poster boy for perfection. That exclusive group carried high expectations and requirements, withdrawal and dependence were definitely not one of them.

“-A hard time.” Dick weakly corrected. “Because I only got it today, I have to wait a few days to start and get back on track.”

Jason nodded, taking a large bit of the sausage, washing it down with coffee. For the next few minutes they sat in silence eating. Or rather, Jason ate while his brother quietly pushed the food on his plate around with his fork. He watched carefully through bites, trying to understand his brother and what could be going through that head of his. But the problem with growing up in an insane family like the Wayne’s, was that everyone was emotionally constipated or impossible to read.

To Jason’s luck however, Dick finally spoke up, “It won’t interfere with the case.”

“I never said it would.” Jason pointed out.

“I know, I just…” His brother trailed off with uncertainty however Jason didn’t need a finished sentence to understand where his brother was going. He didn’t want to feel weak. Helpless. A burden. Especially to a cause he recruited Jason into.

“So…” Jason hummed instead. “When did you guys figure out?”

“Coming up to four years ago.”

Jason whistled. If he wasn’t trying his hardest to be a ‘good brother’ he’d be livid at Bruce and Dick for keeping it a secret for that long. “Why only recent?”

“It’s not something that affects you like a gunshot. It’s slower… quieter, unknown. We didn’t know what to look for.”

“How did y’know then?”

 “B and I were tracking one of Scarecrow’s goons,” Dick started, making sure to speak in a hushed tone about the details. They didn’t want anyone else hearing onto the conversation. “One of them snuck up on me and dosed me with some gas. It wasn’t much, but I’m not as resistant to it as everyone else so I went down quickly. All I could remember was being terrified to the point where I couldn’t move- but I was laughing uncontrollably. Scarecrow’s gas didn’t have any Joker’s Venom laced within it, so Bruce called Dr Thompkins for help and she did some scans on me. B told everyone he had sent me on a mission, but I was actually in Bludhaven, a laughing terrified mess for two weeks.” 

Jason could hazily recall that time, remembering how Dick had came back from that two weeklong top-secret mission looking ten pounds lighter, with purple bags under his eyes that popped from an ashen hue that had accompanied the rest. The weeks after, Dick was oddly quiet, but he hadn’t paid much attention to it, assuming that the mission had just been very strenuous and demanding on his brother.  

 _God_ , if he had known.

 “What’s it like?” He asked.

“Shitty when I think about it, and horrible when I don’t.” Was the answer. Not quite what Jason was expecting to be honest. His brother seemed to see the dissatisfied expression on Jason’s face, and shoved a pile of hash browns in the middle of his plate with his fork.  

“It’s like your mind and body are working against you.” Dick explained. “You can’t laugh too much, or you won’t stop, and you can’t think too much you rile yourself up. But you need your mind to think consciously about what you are doing and that takes effort. And you need you body to react, so you don’t look like an emotionless robot, but that sometimes means smiling. So, you end up always on the edge just inches away from losing it completely-”

A wild look in Dick slowly grew and the fork he was holding was suddenly forced into a white knuckled grip. His irises grew round, and each breath of air got progressively shallower and quicker with every word.

“-And then people look at you like you’ve gone insane, but you aren’t insane but- but they’ll never understand that, so they just stare at you like you’re the Joker without clown makeup- but you’re not. I’m not. Insane- I mean… I- _haha-“_

When a small laugh escaped his brother’s lips, Jason dropped his fork and grabbed his brother’s wrist, squeezing it tight with a grounding reassurance.

 “Dick,” He said, and the laugh died in his brother’s throat. “Calm down. Breathe.”

Disheveled, Dick nodded with frazzled eyes. He released his death grip from the fork, letting it clatter against the softness of the plate’s egg.

“I…I’m not hungry.” He muttered.

Jason whispered, “Okay, alright.”  

Was this what it felt like being a proper big brother? Cause it didn’t feel good, it just hurt.

~~

The phone picked up on the second ring.

“Hey Jason,” Tim answered, not bothering to hide the surprise in his voice. “What’s up?

“Hey Timmy,” Jason said, watching carefully as Dick paid for their breakfast bill. He had to make this fast, so Dick didn’t come back to his scheming. The last thing he wanted to do was have to witness whatever _that_ had been again. “Do you know if Batman keeps records of his early days of beating up criminals?”

He could hear Tim hum in thought, “Probably, he keeps just about everything. Why?”

“I need to find any files relating to Joker’s Venom and Scarecrow’s Fear Toxin. Preferable before even I was Robin.”

“Oh, so the early _early_ days. They may be hard to find but if I looked deep enough I can find it. What’s this about anyways?”

Jason froze in his spot. Should he tell Tim about what was going with their brother? Tim had a bad rep with getting too engrossed in a situation and pouring all his energy into it. It could easily stress him out and then Jason would have not just one brother to worry about, but two.

Then again, not telling Tim was exactly what Dick had been doing, and there was no way in hell he’d prove his brother’s stupid sibling code right. He’d tell Tim, but not right now. Not until he got more information and could fully understand the situation. That was the difference between him and Dick. If his brother had the ability too, Dick would never tell anyone, but Jason had no intention of keeping this secret under wrap permanently. When the time came, he would tell the others.

Glancing at the cars whizzing by, Jason groaned internally.

Fuck he would feel the dissonance later. 

“I’ll tell you later.” He explained to Tim. “Just send me the files, okay?”

“Alrighty.”

“Thanks, bye.”

Ending the call and shoving his phone into his pocket before Dick could finish the payment, he made his way to his brother.

“-appens to the best of us, Richard.” Roma was saying as he approached. “Don’t worry.”

She gave both of them a warm smile which Dick returned halfheartedly.

“Your pig ‘n poke was to die for.” Jason added with a grin, attempting to lighten the mood. “Seriously, I would know.”

“Huh?” The older lady questioned with a raised eyebrow. However, she couldn’t investigate as Jason was already dragging his brother out by the bicep, making sure to provide one last wave and thanks.

They left the diner and Jason freed his hands, shoving them into his leather jacket. “Alright, you got two options,” He told Dick as they started walking. “Either talk to me about the case or we walk to your apartment in silence while you mope. To be honest I need to distract myself from everything that just happened, so I would prefer we talk about the case. Your choice.”

“We can talk about the case.”

“Good choice.” Jason grinned, “Well despite my extensive knowledge and experience in where the crime lords and criminals wander, that’s in Gotham- and a whole different ballgame. We’re in Bludhaven now and criminals could be scheming at coffeeshops sipping chai tea lattes for all I know. So, it’s going to be up to you to lead me around town.”

While Jason was a stranger to Bludhaven, it didn’t take much research or wandering to figure out where the shady parts of any city was. He just wanted to try and pry his brother’s attention and focus off the diner incident so the guy could actually start functioning like a normal human being again. As much as Jason didn’t want to admit it, in order for this case to go well, Dick had to be in the right mindset- not worrying about how he embarrassed himself or that his stupid status as big brother was compromised. He needed Nightwing: the hyperactive, begrudgingly optimistic and witty vigilante, not Dick Grayson; not right now anyways.

To Jason’s luck however, his brother with problem solving instilled in him at an early childhood took the bait, thinking silently for a moment. “He’d be in the lowest part of town, probably near the red light distinct on 48th. That area branches off to pretty much every other poorer parts of the city- I try to go to that area at least four nights a week.”

“Oh Grayson, you sly dog.”

His brother stared blankly, brow raising. “Sorry?”

“Nevermind.” Jason grunted. “Anyways, if the BHPD aren’t as stupid as every other police department in America then they’ll probably be driving around there too. We can listen on to what we might have missed.”

Dick nodded along, only briefly pulling a distasteful face at the shit talking of the police department.

“Then it’s just the matter of figuring out why Zsasz came to Bludhaven in the first place.”

“He’s a psychopath, Jay sometimes there is no explanation for what he does,” Dick said to Jason’s surprise. His brother was a pretty analytical guy, never simplifying or seeing something at face value, so it felt a little odd to Jason that Dick would jump to such assumptions.

Jason felt the need to justify himself. “Yeah, but from the files I read, he’s a psychopath with a mission.”

God he was sounding like Drake.

The conversation on the topic died progressively throughout the walk back to Dick’s apartment. By the time the pair had returned they had discussed possible theories and planned when and where the patrol would take place. Jason had until sundown for free time before they’d suit up and watch the streets, and if there was anything he wanted more at that moment, it would be found in the contents of cheap beer and grimy bars.

The two parted ways, one towards loud music and pool table clatters, the other towards the sweet silence and softness of a bed.  


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this household Nightwing has his blue striped finger suit bc that was a look.
> 
> Original post by the amazing The-Imaginative-Fox on Tumblr: https://the-imaginative-fox.tumblr.com/post/184286735743/dottie-wan-kenobi-the-imaginative-fox-so . Go check the post out and give Imaginative Fox all the love!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for this being later then usual and being shorter as well. All my shifts have been till midnight the past week and for some reason I'm having trouble concentrating on pretty much everything 
> 
> Nonetheless, enjoy!

As the sun set and Bludhaven’s families went to bed, Jason met back up with his brother, the faint smell of beer lingering on his body. Aside from Dick’s disheveled black hair that annoying looked still good, Nightwing was all suited up, readjusting the escrisma sticks on his back as Jason came up behind him. They were meeting on a roof of a building in the approximate vicinity where they believed Zsasz would be roaming, and while the majority of Nightwing’s suit was black, the blue highlights that transformed his arms into wings reflected against the moonlight.

“Your hands are shaking.” Jason observed as Dick’s hands shakily played with the sticks.

Dick turned in surprised, instantly bringing his hands to his side. “What can I say, I’m excited. I haven’t worked with my favorite murderous red bat in awhile.”

Jason highly doubted that that was the true reason for the shaky hands, but he wasn’t going to pass up a compliment. In order to operate his ego needed at least a dozen compliments a day.

“You sure do know how to make a man feel fuzzy inside, Nightwing.”

Nightwing approached the edge, staggering for a moment before planting one leg on the concrete ledge as though he was stepping forward on a stage. He straightened his spine like a ballerina and angled his face upwards towards the moon. Jason could see the rise of his brother’s chest as Dick inhaled the smell of the city below into his lungs.

Dick looked over his shoulder, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “I aim to please,” He hummed before throwing himself off the ledge of the building. His black and blue cladded brother disappeared, and Jason rolled his eyes under the helmet, grateful that Google Earth couldn’t see the small teasing smile that accompanied the eyeroll.

It was a bit of a relief to know that whatever Dick had done in his spare time today, it had lightened his mood. That or Dick was putting on his own performance for Jason. One that masked how he really felt to keep up the stable big brother persona that Dick clung too like a lifeline.

Whatever the case, Jason followed his brother, grabbing the grapple gun out of his holster and diving off the building.

There was always an adrenaline rush felt in going out at night. Maybe it was the excitement and thrill he was addicted too, or maybe it was the wind that pounded at his body as he fell. Either way, he finished most nights wanting more.

Catching sight of the black and blue blur that was Nightwing swinging in the close horizon, Redhood shot out his grapple, swinging in that direction. They swung around for some bit, running and jumping from building to building, grappling above intersections and streets without a word traded amongst them.

 Finally, after what seemed like an hour, his brother landed on a roof with more grace then Jason could pull off without pulling something. Nightwing kneeled down, peering over the ledge down at the streets below. This was probably going to be where they’d set up camp for the night

Jason landed, crouching down to try and see what his brother was looking at.

Below them was a popular bar often stocked full of various different types of people and this night didn’t seem to be an exception. By the curb was a handful of heavy leathered bikers resting by their bikes, at the open doors were two ladies dressed for a night out, and on the roof above were about a dozen people chatting on long patio couches. Considering the bar was in a rougher neighborhood, it was impressive that the establishment looked as good as it did. There were servers wandering and thin drapery that separated areas, with a smaller stone bar set up by the only wall on the roof. A wall which conveniently had decent sized flat screens, ones that were currently showing…

-his brother?   _What?_

Jason used his helmet to project what he was seeing a little better, double checking that he wasn’t hallucinating. But no, on the tv screens were a video of his brother playing with little kids and shaking hands with adults. Along the border of the video was a news channel’s logo that read the headline, ‘ _Wayne Industries’ Golden Boy Saving the Kids._ ’

“Saving the kids, huh?” Jason said, looking at his brother.

Nightwing’s face contorted into confusion, “What?”

Jason nodded towards the bar roof, directing his brother to the sight. “The televisions, you’re on it.”

At the sight of the video, Nightwing threw his head back with an audible groan. “I donated money to some foster homes last week. For some reason every Bludhaven news channel thought it was the greatest thing ever. My face has been plastered to every tv screen since then.”

“Man, your life must be _so_ hard.” Jason hummed sarcastically.

“Shut up, I was just trying to start a conversation about the lack of funding in homes.”

Of course he was, his brother was always doing something to solidify his good guy persona. Either he was purposefully playing the part of the billionaire’s ward much like how Batman played the part of Bruce Wayne, or Dick was just genuinely a decent guy, who didn’t just want to only help as a vigilante. Whatever it was, it made Jason wanna barf.

 “Well you definitely succeeded in starting up a conversation. But the discussion was probably about who could get you into bed faster.” Jason pointed out. Men and women alike practically threw themselves at his brother, who -to Jason’s bewilderment- tended to be oblivious to. “If there is anything people want more in bed then a bad boy- it’s a nice guy.”

Nightwing huffed, cheeks growing rosy. He peered over the ledge and looked around the street as though contemplating something. “If all you are going to do during this stakeout is talk about my sex life, I think I might steal some earplugs from a convenience store.”

“Committing theft for me? How sweet.”

“Nevermind, I’ll throw myself off the ledge instead.” Nightwing stated. “Y’know, you and Red Robin have the same horrible sense of humor? You guys obviously weren’t raised in a circus.”

Jason ignored the last part, jabbing his thumb into his chest proudly. “He gets it from me.”

His brother looked away trying unsuccessfully to hide an innocent smile created from Jason’s antics. The lighthearted moment froze as the quips from the two of them died down, leaving only a still silence between the brothers.

Jason spared a glance at his partner, trying to study his expression behind the mask.  

“So…” Jason started slowly. “Speaking of the little red bird, when are you going to tell him and the Demon Brat about your uh…” Jason drew a smiley face on his helmet with his finger, smudging the surface. “…condition?”

Nightwing turned to look at him with a frown on his lips, and brows furrowed. “Not anytime soon.”

“You sure that’s a good idea?” Jason questioned, buffering his helmet with the side of his gloved hand. Parts of the smudge disappeared, but the majority remained like a bad stain.  

“No,” Nightwing admitted with a heavy sigh. “But it’s for the best.”

“For who?”

“What?”

“The best for who? You or them?” Jason said.

The frown deepened, “Hood...”

“Look man, I know I’m not in the position to judge. But there is something really fucked about you- and I don’t mean the smiles or laugher _,_ I mean how you are so hellbent on carrying everything like it can only ever be your problem.” Jason explained, carefully choosing his words to avoid setting his brother off. The last thing he wanted to do was piss off his brother who always had a very unpredictable type of anger. “When I got a problem I can’t handle alone, I ask for help. Hell, Arsenal and Starfire would rather me ask for help then be weighed down by something that wasn’t inevitable.”

“I don’t want to weigh people down.” Nightwing argued.

“You aren’t, you’re just asking them to help you up.”

Nightwing shook his head persistently, “I can’t do that, not when they rely on me.”

“Everyone relies on somebody. It’s a two-way street, dude.” Jason pointed out, shoving his hands into his jacket. “You called me for help with Zsasz. What do you think that was?”  

“It’s different.” His brother’s hands clenched, the corner of his lip twitching.

“No, it’s not. Your personal problems are just as important as this serial killer bullshit.” Jason was going to lose it with his brother if he made one more stupid excuse. Sooner or later he’d have to resort to tying Dick to a chair, only releasing him if he talked about his emotions for at least a half an hour.

“Wow, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I liked it when the conversation was about my sex life.”  

“Why am I not surprised.” Jason looked away in annoyance. “You think Red Robin and I are alike?  Well take a look at yourself in the mirror dude, you’re the love child of Batman’s moody crusade, and the Joker’s dumbass smile right now.”

Nightwing opened his mouth to shoot back a rebuttal but as quickly as he opened his mouth, he closed it abruptly, shifting his gaze away. Crossing his arms, Nightwing looked away from Jason, focusing instead on the bar below. His brother had a small smile on his lips, a nervous tick created by the pressure Jason had instilled. It didn’t seem like his brother knew that he was smiling, and that only made the uneasiness sink farther in Jason’s gut. It wasn’t the classic Nightwing formula of sarcastic quips intertwined with flips and ass kicking.   

“So that’s the trick? Call you a name and you’ll shut up and listen? Well fine, I’ll bully you then,” Jason grunted, unimpressed at his brother’s avoidance. For a guy that prided himself in being the oldest and most adult out of the four boys, he sure did a crappy job at being the ‘responsible adult.’ Because the domino mask made it hard to read Nightwing’s expression, Jason could only assume that Dick was giving him the silent treatment. Ignoring the problem and hoping that it goes away was such a childish way of handling a problem- especially in their dysfunctional family. So much so, that the actual baby of the family, Damian, would probably scowl and try to verbally disown Dick for acting like a child again if he was here with them.

Jason ignored his brother’s attempt to change the topic once again. “You look like the Cheshire Cat, Wing.“

Nightwing continued to stare out at the streets below, leaning closer over the edge, “Hood…” He trailed off.

“Or even better, the Teletubby sun baby that constantly laughed for no reason-”

“Redhood!” Nightwing snapped, “The bar entrance!”

For a moment Dick’s words didn’t register in his head, having completely forgotten about the reason why they were sitting on a building roof in the middle of the night together. It was so easy to get caught up in Dick’s denial and issues that he had overlooked the real reason he was here: to catch Victor Zsasz.

Hurriedly looking over the ledge, Jason zoomed in on the bar entrance to see a young lady in her mid-twenties rushing out of the bar. Her hair was down and messy in a wild sort of way, and she was nursing her wrist gently as she started to speed walk away from the building. She stopped abruptly for a second, turning around.

“God, I hate you!” Her faint voice said with a whine. Even from sitting stories above the bar, it was still obvious to tell that the lady was yelling. “You’re such a piece of shit, David!”

“Oh, David fucked up.” Jason echoed quietly.

A man Jason could only assume was David, came out the bar, rushing to her in almost a desperate manner. He tried to grab her free hand, but she swatted him away, saying something inaudible.

Whatever it was worked, and David backed off, running his hands through his hair before stopping to watch her leave in defeat.

“Whadda think he did?” Jason asked Nightwing curiously.

Nightwing ignored him, instead focusing on the outgoing event below. “Guy in black baseball cap and brown jacket.” He noted, and Jason’s eyes went to scan the area.

Sure enough, there was a man wearing a black baseball cap and brown leather jacket ten feet behind the lady as she walked away from the bar. The man hadn’t come out at the same time as her, so he was probably hanging around the outside near the alleyways that separated the buildings beforehand.

His head was tipped low, the visor of the cap obscuring Jason’s view of his face. But that didn’t matter, Jason didn’t have to see the guy’s face to know that his intentions were going to be wrong.

“Now what type of guy wears a hat at night...” Nightwing mockingly contemplated.

“The ones who might want to cover something up.”

“Like maybe a bald head with scars?”

Jason grinned, “You got it.”

The two stood up in unison, gathering their supplies and taking out their grapples. They watched as the lady turned a corner only a building down from the bar, disappearing from sight. The stranger followed quickly after, his pace increasing with a sudden new urgency.

Jason followed as Nightwing stepped up, legs bouncing with excitement, body ready to jump.

 “Wait hang on, Wing.” Jason said suddenly, ripping his brother’s attention from the stranger. “Our comms aren’t set up yet.”

“No need, Hood. This is going to be quick.”  

Something in Jason’s gut said otherwise, but he followed his brother’s lead, taking his grappling gun out. “Alright, if you say so.”

And they jumped.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The consequences of life outside the vigilante business backfires on Jason and Dick
> 
>    
> Original post by the amazing The-Imaginative-Fox on Tumblr: https://the-imaginative-fox.tumblr.com/post/184286735743/dottie-wan-kenobi-the-imaginative-fox-so . Go check the post out and give Imaginative Fox all the love!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been awhile, hasn't it? My bad again. 
> 
> This summer I've found myself staying away from the internet quite a bit. I haven't touched my laptop until now, and I've just been enjoying doing simple stuff like painting/drawing, reading, working at a park, and hanging out with friends. 10/10 would recommend trying. 
> 
> Anyways, here is another chapter. I apologize that it is short, I have the layout of the fic all pieced together and I'm trying to keep it that way. 
> 
> :)

By the time they had swung down over to where Zsasz and the lady had disappeared off to, Jason could hear muffled screaming followed by heels scraping against the pavement. The lady was putting up a fight, which meant that she was slowing Zsasz down enough for Nightwing and himself to catch up.

“He’s taking her into an alley.” Nightwing noted, landing heavy on his feet, staggering a second in front of Jason.

Jason quickly glanced at the entrance to the alley. “What is it with alleys that criminals find so appealing?” He wondered aloud. “It’s just a one-way sidewalk to Arkham’s coziest cells. Literally no successful criminal would ever do that.”

His brother, apparent in his mood to not joke around shot a look at Jason, before promptly taking off around the bend.

Jason rolled his eyes. Fine, if Dick wanted this to be quick and easy, he’d follow along.

Rounding the corner, Jason was met with Nightwing and Zsasz staring each other down. The lady, a little disheveled but overall unharmed was struggling in Zsasz’s grasp, pushing enough to make him stumble.

Zsasz spared a glance at Jason, "And who the fuck are you?"

So that's how Victor was going to play. As much as he loathed criminals, he at least had some fun with the sarcastic wise cracking ones. But this guy? He was as boring as his bald head. Jason huffed, cracking his knuckles. "The guy that's going to bash your face in."  
  
" _Redhood_ ," Nightwing's tone warned.  
  
" _Wing_ ," Jason tested carefully back, placing the same emphasis and tone on his speech. He'd try to play by Nightwing's rules, but that was only if nothing went sour. The moment it did- and it would- he’d go back to his ways.

"Zsasz just let go of the lady and come with us." Nightwing said carefully. "You know this only ever ends one way."  
  
"Fuck no," Zsasz grunted angrily. "I got stuff to do and that ain't finishing anytime soon."  
  
"How about you fill us in on your to-do-list then?" Jason stepped forward a little. "Or does it only include killing and torturing innocent people."  
  
"I'm putting them outta their own misery. Doing them a favor."  
  
Jason snorted at the remark.  
  
"Hood, stop aggravating him." Nightwing said under his breath, intentions set on not showing the criminal how dysfunctional they were at that moment.  
  
But screw that, Jason was akin to pissing the ever-loving crap out of criminals, and that wouldn’t change just because the golden boy didn’t like it.  
  
"Yeah? And what about all those people you killed." Jason barked, "The ones that you thought were hopeless. Couldn't they turn that shit around?"  
  
"A lame mutt is dead weight. That shit deserves to be put down."  
  
Victor shifted, glancing between his two confronters in an instant of hesitation. The girl pressed against him took the opening, slamming her foot into Victor's right kneecap.  
  
A scream of pain exploded from Victor, sharply cut off as the girl shoved herself away from him, throwing herself to the floor.  
  
Both Nightwing and Jason lurched forward instinctively. Nightwing hauled the lady up, putting himself in between just as Jason threw a punch in Victor's direction.  
  
The killer recovered swiftly, narrowly avoiding Jason's fist, and threw his own, landing a blow on Jason's helmet.  
  
"Fuck!" Victor yelled in pain, recoiling back with his fist digging into his stomach nursingly. His eyes whipped from Nightwing to Jason wildly, teeth clenched in fury. "Fuck you all." He snarled, before taking off through the backdoor of the bar.  
  
Jason looked back at his brother who had just finished checking the lady over.  
  
"I'll follow, you take roof. He might try to escape through the patio-" Jason stopped, feet freezing despite the desire to move.  
  
His brother's hands were shaking. Not in the coffee high or adrenaline junkie way, but in the form of what Jason could only describe as anxiety. Like hell he wanted Dick to be jumping from roofs with twigs for fingers. The guy looked like he was a second away from collapsing in a pool of sweat. His body was in rough shape inside and out, with the concoction of pills he had relied on for years now absent and out of his system.  

Was this what his brother really was without the effects of medication to mask his issues? A sweaty mess of shaky hands and clumsy feet, of laughing fits and paranoia?

An identity forced into isolation because of the self image he felt necessary to uphold.

How did Jason not see any of this before?  
  
"You follow, I'll go up." He corrected, unable to stop himself from stammering slightly.  

To his surprise and relief Nightwing followed the orders willingly separating from Jason.

Jason shot up the wall with his grapple, startling the shit out of the bar's patio guests in the process as he landed on the ledge. He waved at the people staring with gapping mouths and lost expressions before taking off through the crowd towards the staircase.  
  
He skipped down the stairs, running down into the main room of the bar.

It was a busy night in Bludhaven apparently, as Jason had to shove past people, ignoring the shouts and slurs shot at him. To the left of the bar a much noisier collection of sounds drowned out the crowd’s chatters and music, hearing briefly the sound of a glass shattering.  
  
Jason shot towards the noise, pushing through what seemed to be a crowd circling around a clearing. He pressed through to see Nightwing finish a flip away from Zsasz's reach, backing up into a wall of flesh.  
  
The wall of flesh had arms, and unfortunately for Dick, they were in a grabby mood. Hands latched onto Nightwing's shoulders and biceps, effectively holding him in spot away from Zsasz.  
  
A deep voice, slurring boisterously cut through the thick volume, "Yo it's Nightwing!" The voice chirped. "Black 'n blue!"  
  
More hands appeared and a drunken chant of "Black 'n blue" erupted from the people, jostling Nightwing in all different directions.  
  
Even with the domino mask obscuring Dick's expression, Jason could see the anxiety building like a kettle on a stove.  
  
Nightwing struggled to get free, but even a successful non-powered vigilante like himself could only do so much when at least a dozen or so drunken civilians were holding on like they had won him as a prize.  
  
"Stop-" he started, voice raising an octave that progressed into small laughs accompanied by a smile. "Don't- touch _ah_ \- don't _ahahah_ \- me!"  
  
The drunks around joined in with the laughing, like it was a moment to enjoy between the entirety of the crowd, and not a brawl between sanity and a serial killer. The laughing from Nightwing became manic, forceful, and uncontrollable, as the hands gave him enough allowance to hunch slightly over.  
  
His body still struggled as if it had gone into autopilot the moment his mind left. Leaving only a laughing mess of panicked movement.  
  
Zsasz, who had been backed into the corner, trapped by the crowd too stared with wide eyes.  
  
Something glimmered in his dark eyes- a sort of discovery that seemed comparable to winning a billion dollars. It was a billion-dollar secret after all; but Jason didn’t know that.  
  
Instead Jason pushed through jostling of his own, shoving anyone that tried to make a reach for him. Unlike his brother he wasn’t opposed to knocking out a couple of shit faced drunks. Hell, it might knock a bit of sense into their thick skulls.  
  
Jason reached out, his fists clenching in anticipation for the solid hit he'd land of Zsasz's scarred mug. But as the distance between the two faded, the crowd burst into a frenzy, individualization sweeping through the people; all sense of responsibility and control disappearing within seconds.  
  
A heavy force came barreling down on Jason, taking him to the floor hard enough to hear his helmet crack, the back of his head landing roughly against the surface.  
  
A wave of vertigo washed over Jason, the corners of his vision turning progressively darker with each passing moment.  
  
He grappled to stay awake, but the darkness was edging closer- luring him away from his brother and Zsasz.  
  
All he could see was the face of his brother out of uniform, televised on all the screens around the bar- his prominent smile encapsulating not only the viewers but also Zsasz.  
  
And with that, Jason lost consciousness.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well school destroyed me quicker then I had imagined. Nonetheless, my apologies for the inactive. This chapter is mainly just chatter and if it's written like shit, it's because I'm burnt out and can hardly think. I'll be going over the chapter later to fix the many mistakes 
> 
> Hope you enjoy :))

Jason woke up to a crowd of people looking down at him. They all held their drinks, eyes glossy and not registering the gravity of the situation or even who was at their feet for that matter.

Groaning, he pressed his hand to his face, confirming that his helmet was still in fact intact and on his head.  
  
The people shifted slightly, having made some room for him to pull himself up off the floor. He staggered onto his feet, head pounding with every murmur and laugh that echoed like fireworks in the bar.  
  
"Nightwing..." He groaned, taking the chance to look around. There was no sight of the black and blue clad hero, and more worrying enough, no sight of Zsasz anywhere.  
  
Jason spun around, ignoring the pounding in his head intensify with vertigo. His brother and Zsasz was the main concern at hand. 

  
"Nightwing," He repeated this time a little louder- a little more urgent. "Nightwing, where are you?"

“Dude, chill out!” A person whined close by.

Still no answer.

A thin layer of panic started to rise from his stomach.  
  
"Where are they?" Jason looked at the people staring dumbfounded at him. "Where did they go?!"  
  
A lady chuckled lightly, throwing her free hand over Jason's shoulder. "It's alright, _relaaxxx_. Your bald buddy is lowkey an MVP. Totally took your other friend home."  
  
A deep fury boiled in Jason. He slipped out from the lady's grasp, chest beating with sweet unrighteous anger.  
  
These stupid drunks had fucked everything up. They had single-handily messed with both Jason and Dick's case, and even helped Zsasz kidnap his brother. If he hadn't been so consumed by rage for Zsasz, he would have pummelled every idiot that had put their hands on Dick or himself. But as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t. It would only be a pointless endeavor and Zsasz’s tracks would disappear.  
  
Instead, he pulled out his gun, aiming it at the ceiling.  
  
"Everyone move!" Jason yelled. He obviously wasn’t going to fire, but the drunken idiots crowding him didn’t know that.  
  
If on cue, the crowd recoiled back in alarm at the sight of a gun. They pushed each other back clumsily, some sipping their beers in the midst of panic, others spilling it onto the floor or unlucky others.  
  
They hadn't set up their comms before the bar so Jason couldn't get into contact and track Dick's movements. Going to the Batcave was the last option too. His itinerary didn't include having to explain to the big Bat how his first and arguably most proud of son was currently missing- possibly having a mental crisis within the hands of a killer.  
  
No biggie, that explanation would go down perfectly with the Dark Knight.  
  
The sea of people parted, bending to his very will as Jason made his way out the bar. Retracing the steps Dick and himself went through progressively was the best way to start. Zsasz was a criminal- it didn't necessarily mean he was a smart one. There had to be at least one piece of evidence Jason could use.  
  
He left the bar, retracing his steps from the start to the end repeatedly. Each retrace left him slightly more frustrated and hopeless as each passing second moved forward without his brother back in his presence. Finally, after hours of tracking back and scanning the city for possible hideouts, Jason collapsed on the roof of a building with a huff of frustration.  
  
If he couldn't find Dick, he'd have to go to the manor like a dog with their tail between their legs. The image of Bruce's hard stare, Alfred's quiet presence and Damian's cocky remarks would drive him up the wall if he did. It just couldn't happen.  
  
Mulling in his own loath, Jason was snapped out by the notification his helmet was receiving communication.  
  
For a brilliant moment, Jason believed Dick had escaped Zsasz and was contacting Jason for backup. But after a sobering second, the rationale behind that thought became less and less realistic. Instead Jason answered, shoving his disappointment away. "Tim, now isn't a good ti-""  
  
"When were you going to tell me Dick has been having a psychological meltdown the last five years of his life?" Tim snapped angrily through the call.  
  
Jason was surprised by Tim's forwardness and intensity, and he physically recoiled. "How'd you find out?" He sputtered.  
  
He could almost hear the scowl behind Tim's tone, "What did you expect? You send me on a wild goose chase to find information about Bruce and Dick that obviously Bruce wanted no one to see. That information is on lockdown. It's just begging for me unravel it all."  
  
"I was going to tell you."  
  
"When? In five years like Dick?"  
  
“Hey!” Jason barked, he was not going to be compared to the Boy Wonder, not today and definitely not ever. “This is all new information to me too. You and I are on the same boat right now so try not to take it out on the guy rowing.”

These was a pause, “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Forget it.” Jason said, drawing circles around where his temples would be on the helmet. “Are you busy?”

“If you make me look for more files I swear to God I will-“

“-No, you nerd.” Jason interrupted. “Dick’s went missing after patrol tonight and I’m pretty sure Zsasz took him.”

“Zsasz?” Tim repeated, unable to hide the surprise in his voice. “Like Victor Zsasz, serial killer who should be in Arkham right now?”

“He broke out a week or so ago.” Jason explained, getting up from the ledge he was sitting at. “I think he’s looking for someone specifically.”

“Okay…” Tim says thoughtfully, mind slowly becoming encased within the parameters of the mission- anger no longer up front and center. “Where are you now? Bludhaven?”

Jason continues to scan the streets slowly. Stopping his search just increases the risk that Nightwing wouldn’t be found, and he can’t allow that. “Yeah.”

“Well why would he break out of jail to head directly to Bludhaven? He obviously knows what he wants, we just gotta figure out why.” Tim considered, pausing for a moment. “Maybe a prison mate bought him out? Is using Zsasz for a hit?”

Jason shook his head, “Nah, that wouldn’t be the case. Zsasz only kills on his own accord. If he thinks the person doesn’t deserve to live, he’ll kill them- he won’t kill just because someone told him too.”

“Alright, what about events. Are there any political meetings or important people in Bludhaven right now?”

“Aside from the mayor? No…” Jason’s voice trails off as his eyes catch a store window, various size television screens still running, flickering brightly in the dark images of his brother smiling as he donates money to foster homes. 

The voice of his brother suddenly echoes in his ear,

_‘Every Bludhaven news channel thought it was the greatest thing ever. My face has been plastered to every tv screen since then’_

“Son of a bitch...” Jason cursed under his breath. Memories of Zsasz staring at Nightwing as though he had won the lottery of revelations, behind them dozens of screens lit up with his brother’s unmasked face- and identical smile appear in his head. It wasn’t possible… was it? That Zsasz could connect the dots- make a connection on who the Golden Boy might be outside of the mask?

“Jay, you still there?” Tim questioned on the other side of the comm.

“Yeah Replacement, I am.” He took out his grapple, reloading it. This case was spiraling quickly- as if it hadn’t been doing that from the start. As much as he hated to admit it, he was going to need some help. “Look, can you meet me at Dick’s apartment as soon as possible? I’ll fill you in on everything- I promise. I just- I need your help.”

There was a beat of silence and Jason was sure Tim was going to lash out in annoyance at once again being left in the dark. However, to his surprise, Tim merely sighed.

“I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

“Thank- “

“-And Jason,” His younger brother cut him off, voice serious and low. “If you want this to work without Batman knowing, you’re going to have to fill me in on everything.”

Jason nodded solemnly, “I know.”  
  


* * *

 

Not too long after, Jason finds himself once again on the roofs of Bludhaven- this time with a smaller, less dysfunctional companion.

“I still can’t believe Dick and Bruce didn’t tell us.” Tim continued on furiously. Ever since Jason had filled him in on everything, his Replacement had been going off in rants of disbelief and anger at his adopted father and brother’s secrecy. “I mean- what benefits would there be if they never told us? None! I don’t see the point! When I see them I’m going to -”

“-Yeah, well get in line,” Jason said, shooting the comment over his shoulder. “They’re going to get a piece of me first before anyone else gets a chance. But as much as I wanna rip them apart, we have to focus on finding Dick first.”

A deep huff left Tim and he gathered himself for a moment. “Alright,” He finally said through a sigh. “Where do we start?”

 “We gotta figure out where he took Dick.” Jason pointed out, “Dick and I never figured out where he was staying.”

Tim pulled a face, skepticism and surprise evident. “Really? You guys didn’t look into any files or logs? He probably has a house or is staying somewhere in Bludhaven. I wouldn’t doubt if he’s around this district of the city.”

“All his assets would have gotten seized when he blew his money gambling. That’s what happens when you go into massive debt Timmy.”

“Yeah,” Tim said slowly, “But even the insane have family. There’s probably a building his parents owned that’s still running? Maybe the ownership switched to someone that wasn’t Zsasz, or it wasn’t under his name?”

“Oh.” Jason was internally grateful his helmet concealed any emotion or expressions, as he grimaced at his own stupidity.  

Tim narrowed his eyes, pulling a face mixed between disappointment and confusion, “Did you really not think about that?”

“No,” He dragged defensively, “Why would we? The dude’s like a five-layer dip of crazy, Tim.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I get the feeling that you guys didn’t think of that because you were too busy arguing with each other.”  

Jason looked away in denial, “What? Hell no.”

“You sure?” Tim said, “Because as well as you guys get along, you also tend to get into arguments just as bad, and I suspect that Dick’s issues didn’t help either.”

A begrudging sense of doubt crossed Jason’s mind as he thought back. Sure, they argued, but that didn’t affect their efficiency with the case. They knew how to decompartmentalize and focus solely on the case at hand when shit went sour. They were trained to undertake emotional and physical trauma and push it to the side until further notice as only a mild concern. Then again, did Jason want to push aside what was going on with Dick to finish the case? Did his tiny metal heart actually want to focus on his brother more then Zsasz, and so much so that it manifested regardless?

If that was the case, then it wasn’t Dick’s problem that was interfering with catching Zsasz. It was Jason’s unconscious obsession with his brother’s health that was foiling their work.  

God, he hated when Tim was right.

Jason sighed defeatedly, “Fine maybe it did, but it would have happened regardless. If you were in my position you would’ve probably had an early midlife crisis or some shit because your idol isn’t so perfect.”

His younger brother frowned, “What? No, I don’t idolize Dick, that’s stupid.”

The eldest brother seemed to have such an invisible but powerful influence on the family, even the kid lived in denial with his relationship with Dick.

Jason rolled his eyes, “Do me a favor and think over your answer while I look into properties linked with Zsasz.”

He crouched, overlooking the city below, and pulled up the database within his helmet.

His family was a collection of repressed losers in denial, but they knew him so well.

And there was nothing he wouldn’t do to save his brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter till this fic ends :O
> 
> I'm thinking of making a short of 5 years before the events of this fic, where Dick must have to initially adjust and recover.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the end has come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glad I finished this before my next semester in a couple of days, but not so glad it's over. 
> 
> Nevertheless, thank you for reading this! 
> 
> Story inspired by The-imaginative-fox tumblr post on the possible repercussions the first robin may have from being well the first  
> https://the-imaginative-fox.tumblr.com/post/184286735743/dottie-wan-kenobi-the-imaginative-fox-so

They had found it fairly quickly.

Once they could narrow down the search to properties or buildings linked with Zsasz and his family, it was only a matter of travelling to the site.

Like any other rich criminal, Zsasz’s family had owned a warehouse close to where he had been prowling about the nights before. It was no longer under the Zsasz name, and had been pasted down twice by two others before the latter had filed bankruptcy, but it nonetheless carried the only connection to Victor they had. He had to be there, and if Zsasz wasn’t, then he’d burn the whole city down looking for the killer.

The pair grappled from building to building as growing tension filled silence as they got closer. If thoughts and feelings could manifest, Jason was positive he would be a fiery mess of radiating anger, tinted with the blue hues of worry.

He was going to pummel Zsasz, and then punch Dick for making him care about his screwed-up family.

It was Red Hood, not brotherhood.

Jason spared a glance at Red Robin as they jumped, noticing the knotted tense expression of his younger brother grow with time.

His younger brother was only just experiencing the worries and concerns Jason had when he first discovered Dick’s issues. However, this time Tim wouldn’t be granted the privilege of reassurance as Jason had. He wouldn’t be comforted until they got Dick back and forced the truth out their brother once again.

Dick was a prominent role model in Tim’s life and carried much more influence then he had for Jason. The kid lived and breathed for Dick’s approval and respect more then he slept. To see an idol of that caliber sudden become something less then expected would leave Tim confused and doubting.

“He’s alright, Red,” Jason said, and Tim shot a look of confusion.

“We don’t know that, not until we find him. Zsasz is a serial killer, he’s going to kill Nightwing, if we don’t stop him.”

Jason shook his head, finally landing on the warehouse roof of their destination. “I don’t mean that.”

Realization crossed Tim, and he looked away weakly. “I know,” He started slowly. “But…”

“-No,” Jason interpreted sternly. “No _but_. Dick and Bruce kept his problem a secret for five years and none of us noticed. Do you know why that is?”

“Because their secretive assholes?”

“Okay, yes and no. It’s because nothing about Dick changed. He didn’t stop suddenly being a perfect acrobat, and he didn’t stop checking up on you at work every week.” Jason explained, “Nothing about Dick’s ability to be a brother or hero has changed.”  

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I know how much you look up to Dick.” Jason stated with a heavy breath. “And as much as your idolization is valid, it’s a two-way door, dude. You gotta accept the… less golden side of Dick as much as his favorable qualities. They serve as much of a purpose as to why you see him as a role model then the good parts of him.”

There was a brief moment of silence. Only the quiet steps pattering the floor as they made their way down into the building.

“He’s not the only one I look up to, y’know.” Tim whispered; eyes boring into Jason.

“Same here.”

They stopped at the edge of a platform overlooking the empty main floor of the warehouse. To their luck, the lights overhead brought light to the otherwise dark area, only providing more evidence of Zsasz’s presence. There were roughly a dozen and a half broken shipping crates left behind possibly since the warehouse had been emptied, scattered all around the expansive main floor, some open, others shut.

However, aside from the crates, the floor was empty with no signs of Dick or Zsasz anywhere.

“You think they’re in the offic-” Tim’s suggestion was cut off by Jason’s raising his index finger in a quieting motion.

“Shh,” He whispered, freezing any noise that could come from each other.

The warehouse was almost entirely barren, and noise travelled like echoes in the emptiness of it. Zsasz would be able to hear them coming even with the quietest of whispers. But if Zsasz could hear them, that meant that they could hear him as well, and find his exact location.

The pair listened within the silence, ears working to pick up even the faintest of noise.

But Jason was a lucky bastard, and technology was in his favor. His helmet was able to pick up sound frequency much better than the human ear.

A faint echo, akin to a grunt registered in the helmet’s audio. The system kicked into high gear, analyzing the trajectory and reverberations of the noise. His helmet suddenly created a marker on his vision, pinpointing the origins of the grunt. The marker pointed to a shipping crate wedged between two others in the right corner of the warehouse.

Gesturing in the direction silently, Tim nodded in unspoken understanding. The pair launched themselves off the platform, grappling as quietly as possible towards the shipping creates.

All the shipping crates were opened from one end to their luck, however the moment they landed on soft feet, a dank and thick stench filled their sense. To the normal person it would be an uncommon disgusting stench that would send anyone gagging or throwing up, however, to the pair of vigilantes, it was an all too dreading scent. Often times accompanied by disappointment and regret for what could have been done if only a second quicker.

They couldn’t focus on that now though. They had to focus on Dick and only Dick. The precious seconds that had passed for the dead were done and gone, but the seconds for the living was still a countdown to zero.

Before either vigilante could make a move, a gruff voice echoed throughout the warehouse, coming directly from the middle shipping crate.  

“Come on, smile for me,” The voice taunted, tone sending chills down Jason’s back. Pained grunting accompanied the voice, sounding eerily similar to Dick’s, as the chill in Jason washed away quickly, leaving nothing but a growing anger.

Jason peered into the shipping crate, slowly unholstering his handgun.

Zsasz stood back facing the opening. He loomed over the familiar blue and black cladded figure of Nightwing, bound to a chair, bleeding and struggling to get out. Dick’s domino mask was still on, covering any emotion his eyes would mirror, yet the bound hero still radiated panic.

“There ain’t much to do in Arkham.” Zsasz roughly grabbed the side of Dick’s face with one hand, pressing his free hand’s index up against the right corner of Dick’s lips, pushing half a smile onto Dick’s face. His brother’s body shook with adrenaline and panic, as the overwhelming urge to murder Zsasz escalated within Jason. “I didn’t have a purpose; I deserved to die like ever’ piece of shit I’ve put down.”

The killer took his index away from the corner of Dick’s lips, moving it over to his right cheek. He pressed down roughly on a bruise prominent there, ignoring how Dick winced. Zsasz dragged his finger along Dick’s face, starting from the bruised cheek, and swooping down over his lips, back up to the parallel cheek. A temporary red Glasgow smile left its mark in the wane of Zsasz’s rough dragging along skin.  

Zsasz leaned in, speaking in almost a whisper, “…But then I saw you. Smiling on the tv. And it were’ empty, and I had a purpose.”  

 A short laugh escaped out of Dick, and he squeezed his eyes shut as another round of laughs worked it way up like a rat through a tiny hole.

Understandably, Zsasz was confused, and he only shook Dick harder in response. “What the fuck yer laughing at?” He snapped, movement getting more aggressive as Dick’s laughter continued in fits. "I don’t give a shit who you are! You’er as empty as that smile you got, and I'm doing ya a favor!"

Tears ran down Dick’s face, and his breath became labored, desperate for a gasp of air that he tried so hard for. Yet his mind was disconnected from his body, and his lungs yelled in terror at the brain’s cruel humor.

Fed up and fuming, Zsasz grabbed a large hunting knife that stuck out from his back pocket and pressed it roughly against Dick’s corner lip.

Furious, Jason stepped fully into the opening of the shipping crate, gun drawn and aimed at the back of Zsasz’s scarred bald head.

“You touch him and I’ll kill you.” Jason declared darkly, watching as Zsasz whipped around, eyes wide in anger and shock.

“You’er a fucking idiot,” Zsasz taunted manically, the knife still pressed against the corner of Dick’s lips. “I don’t give one shit if I die.”

“Well then, problem solved,” Jason said, finger hovering over the trigger. “It’s a win-win.”

As much as Jason believed that, Dick and Tim wouldn’t. Not with their righteous golden rule of no killing that they carried like an unnecessary ball and chain cuffed to their ankles.

Jason wanted to shoot Zsasz right in the middle of his bald ugly ass head, but he had made a promise to Dick at the beginning of the case, and he wasn’t about to break it. He’s done bad stuff for sure, but he wasn’t one to break his promises; especially with family.

And thank God Tim understood that.  

In quick succession, Tim launched himself into the opening, batarang in hand. Before Zsasz could even make the slightest of moves, Tim threw the batarang with all his might, burying itself into the killer’s knife-wielding forearm.

Zsasz screamed in pain, instinctively flinching with the knife pressed against Dick’s laughing face. He moved in front of Jason’s line of view of Dick, losing any view of if the knife had sliced Dick’s lips.

 Nonetheless, Jason took the moment of distraction.

He ran at Zsasz, tackling the killer to the floor and throwing all his weight against the man. Zsasz struggled, trying to push Jason off but the man wasn’t as strong and didn’t have the upper hand. He pried the knife off, throwing it to the side, opening up Zsasz.

So obviously, Jason laid into him.

Punch after solid punch, Zsasz’s face grew bloodier and more broken with each hit. He could feel as the killer’s nose cracked with each blowing force, blood spurring down like a dam that had broke.

He wasn’t going to kill him clearly, but Zsasz didn’t know that, and Jason wasn’t going to let an opportunity to provide living hell to the serial killer pass him by.  

Jason lifted his bloodied fist to send back at Zsasz once again, but the voice of Tim froze him to his spot.

“Stop! Nightwing,- _ow_ stop!” Tim said, followed by a thud and the continuous wheezing laughter from his eldest brother. “Let me see your face!”

Slamming Zsasz’s head against the floor in a final blow, the killer’s eyes shut, and he slumped unconscious like a rag doll. Out for good, Jason reckoned.

He got up, instantly, moving towards Tim and Dick.

Dick, now on the floor and unbound, was fighting against Tim; pushing and struggling like a wild animal. His hands were pressed against his mouth, covering any possible signs of wounds or Glasgow cuts from the other brothers’ eyes, and tears flooded down his face.

“Timmy, move.” Jason commanded, and Tim listened, moving aside with an ashy face.

Jason straddled Dick, ignoring the initial kicks at his ankles, as he sat on top his brother’s lower torso. Grabbing his brother’s wrists, he tried to pry them away from Dick’s face, but his brother just wrestled and squirmed in his grasp, refusing to take his hands away.

“Stop…-fighting me dickhead!” Jason complained, finally prying one of his brother’s hands away from his mouth. “I’m trying to check your face! Lemme look at your face!”

Pinning one hand under his leg, he used his free hand to drag the other away and pin it to the floor, finally getting a good look at his brother’s face.

The breath he was holding in dread was released, and Jason slumped in relief.

Aside from his brother’s uneasy-looking smile and obvious bruises, there were no Glasgow cuts or blood. Just his older brother’s laugh morphing back and forth into a scream through a smile.

Jason got off his brother, letting Dick slap his hands back over his mouth, sitting up. Tim knelt beside the pair slowly, his hands carefully placed on his lap as if he didn’t quite know what to do with them, staring with a haunted expression.

“Dick?” Tim tried weakly. His older brother just shook with every laughter muffled, hard wheezing at every empty space between.  

Jason shook his head gently, “Give him a second.”

The pair sat, watching as the golden boy slowed caught his breath, the wheezes between laughs slowly becoming fuller breaths. His blue eyes slowly opened, tired and pained, as his surroundings became clearer.

“ _Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorry,_ ” Dick muttered feebly in-between dying laughs.

Something in Jason hurt, and he pressed Dick against his chest, rubbing his brother’s arm carefully in reassurance.

Why did Dick think he has to apologize? Why would he think that even in this moment that he had to apologize for something out of his control- something that was never in his control to begin with.

Did he think his image as perfect- the first Robin- the Golden Boy was the only valuable he held? That he contributed? Dick knew people trusted him- looked up to him and respected him. Was he terrified that if people saw him as an uncontrollable mess of laughter that they wouldn’t trust him as much anymore? That he’d lose everything he had before?

Jason was always branded as the Outsider and Rebel of the family. He knew what that entitled and how people viewed him. He understood what it meant -the pros and cons- and what would happen if that ever changed.

But stupidly he’d never thought about what it would be like to be the Golden Boy. What the consequences and responsibilities Dick had, and what it meant if it ever changed.

Identity was a powerful concept- any superhero with a secret identity understood that. But not all identities were covered by masks and helmets. Some manifested itself within lifestyles, personalities and social groups. They shaped how a person sees themselves, whether for better or worse.

Your identity is who you believe to be, and who you think you are without it.

An unreliable hero, an untrustworthy friend, a failure of an older brother.

Dick’s greatest fear wasn’t death or injury or heights- it was to not meet the expectations of others. To no longer be a role model to his little brothers. To be someone nobody came to for help, not because of personality, but because of faith; a lack of faith in him.

Maybe his brother could live with Jason knowing, maybe he would realize that Jason didn’t care- didn’t rely on him that much regardless.

But what about Tim? – or Damian for that matter.

They relied on him. Admired a perfect painting yet failed to notice the decay spreading around it.

Sometimes the greatest things are perfect because they have cracks.

“Don’t be sorry,” Tim said quietly, Jason’s attention snapping to his younger brother in surprise. Tim’s eyes were focused on the ground, unable to meet Dick’s. “Don’t say sorry, _don’t_. You are more then what you think you are- more then what people think of you.”

Tim looked up, eyes round like saucers meeting his brother’s blue.

“I will never ask you to be perfect, Dick, never. I don’t expect you to be and I’m sorry if you thought I did.  I’m your brother as much as you are mine. You listen to all my problems without judgement… so please, talk to me, I’ll listen.”

Jason only blinks for a second, but by the time his eyes are open, Tim has his arms wrapped around Dick, head buried in the crook of Dick’s neck.

Taking a deep breath Jason wraps his free hand around Tim, taking part in the hug.

He doesn’t say anything, but what else is there to say aside from, _what he said_.

 

* * *

 

Zsasz is dropped off at Bludhaven Medical Center shortly after, the injuries to his head enough to cause partial short-term memory loss, but not death. While Red Robin isn’t entirely happy with the outcome, he’s nonetheless glad that it wasn’t the latter, only shooting Jason a slightly disapproving look as they had hauled the killer to the hospital.

The officers and doctors explain that once Zsasz has recovered for the most part, he’d be transferred back to Arkham Asylum, where new schedules and restrictions will be placed on him for the foreseeable future. Jason was skeptical that the modifications will do anything to keep the psychopath locked up forever considering Arkham seemed to have a runaway criminal every other day, but as long as Zsasz didn’t come solely after Nightwing again, he’d be content.  

That being said, Jason was far more nervous for what came in relation to his older brother.

Dick had sent Tim back to Gotham following Zsasz’s admission, with a strained smile and a promise to come clean the moment things settled down.

It had Jason wondering how Dick would approach the situation. Would he try to avoid the situation? Come at it on edge and provoked? Be a sobbing mess? His brother was a 20-sided dice of approaches, and for the first time in a long time, Jason didn’t know which would be the best option.

It had him jittery even as he waited with the family at the manor for Dick’s arrival.

“Master Jason, I understand your apprehensiveness, but I’m afraid if you continue to scratch a hole into the armchair, we will have to replace a very expensive, handcrafted seat,” Alfred explained calmly, as he stood to the side of the room, his posture impeccable and face expressionless. “One which I am not all too thrilled about disassembling.”

Having not noticed his scratching, Jason stopped, tucking his hands into his pocket, “Sorry, my bad.”  

“What’s Alf going on about?” Stephanie asked, looking over to Cassandra with a raised brow. They sat parallel from Jason, waiting like the rest for Dick. The silent girl only stared impassive but sagacious; Jason swore she knew everything- like some mind reading ninja.  

“Nothing your shallow minuscule mind would comprehend.” Damian sneered.

Tim rolled his eyes, “Damian doesn’t know either.”

He glanced at Jason in a quick silent understanding of nerves. Both brothers shared common questions, worries and emotions that flooded their minds when thinking of Dick and his gathering of family members to finally tell the truth. While Jason wasn’t one to express how he felt aside from anger like an exposed nerve, he could take comfort in knowing his thoughts were not completely unshared.

“ _Ha_ ,” Steph breathed, her eyes narrowing challengingly at Damian. “Look who’s the shallow minuscule one now.”

“Watch your mouth, heathen. Next time you are knocked out in combat I will surely leave your uselessness behind.”

Steph smirked tauntingly, “If I get knocked out.”

“I will ensure you do.” He bit back.

“Come and get me, pipsqueak.” Steph challenged, gesturing for him forward with her hands. Damian went to get up, only being stopped by Kate’s hand guiding him back to stay seated.

“Let’s not start a brawl before Bruce and Dick get here, alright?” She warned, crossing her arms. “Besides, Alfred just dusted. You wanna piss him off?”

There was silence amongst the troublemakers, and Alfred.  

Kate nodded pleased, “Thought so.”

Duke, who sat off to the side of Kate and Damian, Alfred-Cat resting on his lap with a content expression, looked from Jason to the rest questioningly. “Not to start up the fight again, but what are we exactly doing all here?” He asked confused. “What’s so important that they couldn’t just tell us individually?”

Alfred stepped forward before either Jason or Tim could respond to the best of their ability. “Master Dick wishes to discuss something with you all. He believes his family deserves to know, whether at the expense of his confidence and position or not.”

“What?” Duke pulled a face, “Why would it be at his expense, what happened?”

Alfred shook his head, “I’m afraid, it’s not my place to say.”

“It isn’t,” A voice- Dick, said from behind them. All heads turned in the direction of the room’s front door, watching as Dick and Bruce strolled into the room side by side. Their oldest brother looked tired and worn, but nonetheless a confidence and strength blazed in his eyes as always. Jason knew now that in some way, part of that strength was artificial- a mask to hide behind. “But when Alfred says stuff it always sounds so sophisticated and British.”    

There was a grunt from Bruce, and they traded looks briefly.

“Alright, well… I’ve gathered you guys all here to tell you something.” Dick began with a deep breath, “Bruce and Alfred were the only ones who knew up until recently when Jason and Tim figured it out. I’ve hid it for years at the cost of being transparent to all of you, and I’m sorry for that. It was out of fear that I believed not saying anything was a much better option.”

The room was quiet, and Jason could hear his heart pounding in his chest.  

“And Steph, I’ll tell you right now, it’s not what you’re thinking,” Dick said with a tiny smile directed towards the blonde.

Steph frowned, mildly disappointed, but she remained focused regardless.

There was a pause before Dick let out another heavy breath, wired and tense. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, shooting a sheepish, but controlled grin at the floor. “Harder than I thought,” He mumbled under his breath.  

Jason rolled his eyes. This wasn’t going to get anywhere if nobody poked it out of him. “Come on Golden Boy,” Jason spoke up, meeting eyes with the eldest. “We haven’t got all day.”

In any case before, Dick would have recoiled or snapped at Jason’s silly nicknames, an unconscious aspect of himself trying to keep locked down the lingering worry and doubt about his cracked identity to others.

But now, with the wound exposed to more people like Jason and Tim, there was no longer a quick reaction to the nicknames. Jason understood now what Dick went through, and thus the nicknames changed from something of teasing bitterness of Dick’s supposed “perfectness” to a reassuring prompt.  

He wasn’t the _Golden Boy_ to Jason because he was a seemingly perfect and invincible person; he was golden for all the other things he possessed.  

People often overlooked the qualities of gold in favor of its expense and value. They looked past how gold was soft and malleable, easy to adapt and change shape. They forgot how gold became stronger when mixed with other metals, and how it could conduct electricity, and reflect radiation.  

Being golden was okay, because even when tarnished or scratched, it could still do so much good- it was still reliable.

Dick nodded silently to Jason, grateful for his pain-in-the-ass brother, and looked up at his family.

There wasn’t going to be anymore lies.

“I have a condition,” Dick said finally.

 

* * *

 

_-"They might not need me; but they might. I'll let my head be just in sight; a smile as small as mine might be precisely their necessity."_

Emily Dickinson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you! I still have plans on continuing this but in short one-shots or prequel kinda things :)
> 
> I'd also like to thank once again The-Imaginative-Fox for the fic! Their post is the keystone of the fic and everyone should check both their AO3 and Tumblr out! https://the-imaginative-fox.tumblr.com/post/184286735743/dottie-wan-kenobi-the-imaginative-fox-so
> 
> Thank you, and goodnight!


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